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lady-lunaaa · 2 years

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Chapter 3-

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Pairing: Pirate!Mikey x Goddess!reader

Rating: MATURE, minors do not interact

Warnings: pirate au, female reader, nightmares, pirate banter, mention of character death, manga spoilers, a little angst, Mikey doesn't know how to do feelings, actually neither does reader, almost panic attack

WC: 7.8k

a/n: heyyy so this chapter turned out a little differently to my original plan and because of that I'm posting a little late in the day, so sorry about that. There is a lot of reader settling in and also some plot bs to get through here but I promise next chapter brings the good stuff. Oh, and this chapter is raw- unbeta'd, no protection, just straight into the anus of Tumblr. You're welcome <3

Link to collab

Lullaby: ☠

It is very early morning when you wake, catapulted out of dark, damp nightmares; full of honey and indigo eyes laying bare your soul - just stay quiet for me, yeah? - and a metal hook twisting possessively into your chest, claiming your most precious of organs- you serve me, and I have your heart.

You shoot up from where you were slumped across the seat, having fallen asleep there sometime last night, your neck stiff and sore. The candle you left burning is now snuffed out, mercifully not setting anything on fire, dried wax coats the cup and table below it.

Judging by the little light coming from the porthole, the sun is beginning to rise. There is no way you will get back to sleep now, not after the horror of your dreams, besides the crew will no doubt start work soon. The shiphands you used to watch at sea were always early risers, no rest for the wicked, as the king often told you.

You adjust your borrowed clothes to make sure they cover as much skin as possible, wishing it could erase the memory of you standing nearly bare and bloody from everyone's minds.

You leave your feet unclothed, however, unaccustomed to such normalities. You rarely wore shoes at your old village, preferring to go barefoot across the sandy terrain.

Stepping out onto the deck and into the briny, sea air reveals that it is indeed sunrise, the buttery rays of dawn lighting up the sky like fire. You admire the view as you breathe in the familiar salt-scent, filling up your lungs until it aches to do so.

Gods, how you have missed the simple act of breathing. It is a perfect reminder that you are alive, a perfect reminder that you have lungs to fill and legs to use, no longer a prisoner. Well, technically confined to this vessel until you dock at land, but something makes you hopeful that this journey will be better than all before it.

The light breeze off the waves teases your hair and for a small moment the bitter memories and dark images are forgotten, it's just you and the sea.

It takes the loud clearing of someone's throat to bring you out of your peaceful reverie, and heat rises to your face at being caught in such a vulnerable moment. The sensation is still oddly new to you, and you press both of your palms to your cheeks, allowing a small amount of moisture to cool your skin. Your magic has restored a little it seems.

It is the pirate captain who is standing behind you, blonde hair mussed and hanging over his eyes, eyes that are ringed with dark circles. He looks particularly miffed at being awake, his white blouse askew and as he stifles a yawn with a hand, you notice a chain around his neck, a shiny silver medallion hanging from it. You put a hand to your own chest, feeling for your pearl through the fabric of your shirt, a new habit for you. You always reached for it when you were nervous as a child, turning it over in your pocket. Now, it is on a convenient chain slung round your neck, perfect for nervous fidgeting.

The captain gives you a sleepy once-over, nodding at your - his - attire, "They'll do, apologies, I don't have anything smaller. I'm sure Emma left a dress around here somewhere…"

His voice is silky smooth and has a slight husk to it from sleep. You look at him sheepishly, he seems so much less threatening in the morning, all dishevelled and worn, and dragging sandaled feet across the deck.

"Thank you, I am most grateful for your hospitality," You nod your head politely, cheeks warming further as you realise the clothes you wear are his.

He tilts his head at your polite manner, you suppose it's not usually seen among pirates, before he moves past you and makes his way to the stern.

"Hungry?" He calls over his shoulder, and you hurry to join him, making your way over to the other men who are sitting cross-legged on the deck in a loose circle, some seated on crates or overturned buckets. Everyone smiles and shuffles around to make room, Mitsuya and Draken parting so that you can both join them, the captain sitting next to his first mate, and you between him and Mitsuya.

Mitsuya smiles at you with far too much sunshine for this early morning and hands you a bowl of watery gruel, which you take with both hands. You glance at the man on your other side, who reaches for his own portion, his knee bumping yours in the process and sending an odd, tickly skitter along your skin. You cough but do not move away, instead wasting no time in digging into your breakfast, slurping down the cold, almost-liquid hungrily and reaching for the water Mitsuya then hands you.

You gulp that down too, barely noticing the murky colour of it, and only coughing slightly when you finish and feel a slight sting at the back of your throat. The pirate directly opposite you barks with laughter and you jump in your spot, placing the tin cup down with a clank.

"You wasted no time at all, little lady!" He slaps both thighs with his palms, long black hair swinging around as he turns to the hulking man next to him, "I like her already!"

The man beside him has a shaved head, a scarf covering his scalp to no doubt protect it from the sun that is now almost fully over the horizon, "Yeah, being half-starved will do that to ya, Baj," he says with an eye roll. You notice he has a scar running from the left side of his lip down to his chin, being a pirate is a dangerous profession, you wonder how many of them bear scars of the cruelty they often see.

You wonder if the captain has any, surely he must do, if he is usually in the thick of fighting like he was yesterday.

You shake the thought away as Mitsuya offers you another cup of water from the cask next to him, you nod appreciatively before turning back to the pirates in front of you and asking, "May I have your names, sirs?"

You try to sound confident, frustrated with your newfound shyness, and hold your chin a little higher. The long-haired pirate sputters on his gruel, wiping the drops from his chin with a dirty sleeve, "You hear that, Pah? Sirs."

The stockier man merely rolls his eyes again, and the other continues, "Sure, little lady, the name's Keisuke Baji but everyone calls me Baj."

He cocks a thumb at himself before turning it to his companion, "And this here's Haruki Hayashida, but that's a mouthful and not very pirate-y-" that earns him an elbow in the ribs which he attempts to dodge, "-so we just call him Pah." He finishes their introductions with a wheeze.

"Nice to meet ya, ma'am," Pah holds out a large hand and you stare at it in confusion, does he want something? You look at him again in mild panic and then you hear Mitsuya murmur to you, "He wants to shake your hand."

You shoot him a look before holding out your hand hesitantly, unsure of what to do. Thankfully, Pah takes the lead and grips your smaller hand in his own, pumping it up and down rigorously with a crooked grin. Meanwhile, Baji is staring pointedly at the first mate, who you think you remember someone calling Draken the night previous. Baji nods his head in Pah's direction as you give him your name, and then mouths the word 'ma'am?!'. You catch a smile from Draken who conceals it with a cough into his hand.

He must see you watching them because he leans past his captain's frame and addresses you in a deep timbre, "I'm Draken, first mate of The Maiden," he gives you a nod and a small smile. His dark hair is braided down his back and the sides are shaved to reveal swirling black lines making up the image of a dragon, a tattoo. Many men in your village used to mark their skin in a similar fashion, and you admire the skill it must take to get such precise curls and lines.

"I like your tattoo," you blurt, in absence of much else to say, and immediately shrink in on yourself a little. How embarrassing to be caught staring and to compliment him on your first interaction.

He only smiles widely and says "Thanks, I like it too," with a playful wink directed your way.

You visibly relax and soon the rest of the men are introducing themselves one by one, you won't remember all of their names but at least it's a start. Eventually, the introductions turn full circle, and you look nervously to the pirate captain who hasn't said a word during the exchanges. He is sipping on his second helping of gruel, seemingly lost in thought, until Draken knocks into his side and sloshes the slop into his lap.

The captain looks down at his thighs and then across at his mate, "These are good pants."

Draken merely scoffs and jerks his head in your direction, "We're doing introductions, cap, look alive."

The blonde-haired pirate turns to you slowly, and you struggle to keep your eyes on his, "I'm the captain," he says plainly, eyes giving nothing away. You think you remember someone shouting a name at him on the ship you had been imprisoned, but there had been too much going on in that moment for you to pay attention to the detail.

Baji interrupts loudly, "Names cap, we're givin' names."

He nods in understanding, "Oh right, Mikey."

Hm, must be a chosen name like Pah's, and you presume Draken's, since the rest have Eastern-sounding names. You realise it is best to play nice with the captain, since he is responsible for your survival, and take a deep breath before sticking out your hand the same way Pah had to you, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain, thank you for having me on board!" You look to Pah out of the side of your eye as if to make sure you're initiating the handshake correctly, he grins at you and nods encouragingly.

The captain stares at your hand for a moment and you fret he won't take it, maybe you offended him somehow? But then he places his hand around yours and that same bizarre thrill shoots through you, from the place you touch to the tip of your toes, and you suppress a shiver. You ignore the feeling, chalking it up to the unfamiliar sensations of your new body.

Mikey's long fingers are lightly calloused, so much softer compared to Pah's, but you suppose that's the luxury the title of captain affords him. His palm is warm and fits comfortably against your own and you feel, all at once, nervous yet reassured. When you let go, you finally take the cup of water from Mitsuya, eager to wet your dry throat, but this time you notice the odd colour and frown at the liquid.

The captain leans in close to talk into your ear, "It's rum." His breath fans across your face and you squeak in surprise, before leaning away slightly to look him in the eye.

"What?" You ask rather dumbly, trying to focus on something other than the sea salt and smoke scent of him.

"The colour, it's because of the rum. We add it to keep the water fresh, and lime hides the taste, also keeps scurvy at bay."

You nod, scurvy had afflicted many of your father's men after their long journey to the East, and that thought reminds you of a question you want to ask your new shipmates.

You clear your throat slightly, gaining the attention of several of the men, "Uh, your names," you start, feeling self conscious at prying, "they sound familiar, are you by any chance from the land to the east?" You phrase your words carefully, remembering that they hadn't recognised the name of your own home. You have learnt new dialects and changes to your own language over the years as Goddess, the King taught you that much, but nothing so simple as the names for the many land masses beyond the shore.

Baji is the first to answer, smiling at you widely, and you notice his front canines are pointed like little fangs, "Sure are! Born and bred!" He looks proud and you can't help but crack a small smile.

Mitsuya speaks next, "We haven't been home in a long while, caught the travelling bug," you look at him thoughtfully, thinking about all the wondrous things they must have seen, all the cities and cultures and cuisines.

"You ever been?" Baji's question throws a wedge in your thought process. You blink at him slowly, formulating words that are simple and to the point and invite few follow-up questions.

"No…my father did though, once." The tightness in your tone conveys that you do not wish to continue this line of questioning, and you decide to ask something else in the hopes of deflecting.

You turn to Draken, "So uh, you mentioned a maiden?"

He smiles politely at you, "The Maiden," he corrects you, "It's the ship, our home," he pats the worn wood beneath him lovingly.

"Oh, it's a good name for such a fine ship," you reply.

Before anyone can respond, Baji jumps to his feet, knocking Pah's bowl over in the process, "Hey, new girl! If ya think that's neat, then lemme show ya something!"

Pah grumbles as he begins to clean away the cups and bowls, passing them to a smaller man behind him. Baji's enthusiasm is infectious, your heart feeling lighter than it has in years, as you nod eagerly. He begins to climb the rigging with the ease of a monkey, your mouth falling open in shock at the nimble and fast way he moves. The others chuckle at your surprised expression but you daren't take your eyes off Baji, isn't he afraid of slipping and falling? You would probably do just that if you tried the same stunt.

It's not long before he is standing in the crows nest, hanging over the railing as he shouts down to you all, "Watch this!"

He pulls something and the attached flag raises slowly, catching the wind and throwing the fabric out. The image artfully drawn onto it is displayed for you all, an almost ghostly appearance of a woman rising from the sea, trident in hand and a mane of seaweed flying about her face.

Your stomach drops and you clamber to your feet with as much grace as the new-born calves you used to rear at the village. You sway on your feet slightly, fatigue and dizziness washing over you once more as you stare at the flag, shock overriding your senses.

The others must take your stunned silence as awe, because they don't say much, just smile and shout up to Baji. But when Mitsuya speaks and you look down again, you catch the captain staring at you intently, eyes deep and dark.

You turn away from his painfully piercing gaze, willing your features to soften into something more passive, as you address Mitsuya's statement.

"You designed that yourself?" You ask a little breathlessly, which thankfully he seems to take as a giddy compliment.

"I did, it's also our figurehead, kind of a lucky mascot, if you will."

You hum as if in acknowledgement, but your thoughts are spiralling, confusion and fear settling deep in your chest. If you were not a god among men, posing as one of their own with grave consequences if found out, you might be flattered. You manage to gather your thoughts enough to ask another question.

"Where did you get the idea from?" Everyone looks eager at that, clearly there is a tale to be told, and you wish to hear it, but before Mitsuya can open his mouth, the captain's commanding voice is ringing out beside you.

"Enough chatter. The day has started and we are already behind. That story can wait for later, when you have the proper time to tell it.” He shoots a half-smile to Mitsuya before giving the other men a look and heading off to the opposite end of the ship.

After that it's a flurry of activity, the crew set to work charting a course and maintaining the ship while Mitsuya joins the captain inside to sort paperwork. You sit and watch the crew for a while, enjoying the company, the simple presence of other people; the shouts and laughs and even a few sea shanties bellowed out, surprisingly in tune (and usually started by Baji).

This is exactly what you had dreamed of for years, watching the ships from the sea was very similar, but with one key difference; here you are a part of it, even if the men refuse to let you help with labour.

Eventually though, it all becomes a bit much, the harsh sun beating down on your neck combining with the noise and the light and to form a dull ache behind your eyes.

It is just as you are about to head inside for a nap, that a small man with blond hair and beautiful green eyes approaches you tentatively. You are embarrassed to admit that you have forgotten his name, but he only offers you a sweet smile and says, "Chifuyu Matsuno, ma'am, I brought you some shoes. They were Emma's, I think they'll fit you OK."

You thank him sincerely, already smitten with his baby face and the way he stutters over his words, before departing to the study with boots in hand.

It is the second time someone has mentioned the name Emma and you are curious, is there usually a woman on board? It would be nice to have another female presence around all these men. You sigh as soon as you shut the doors behind you and step into the cool relief of the shadows, padding down the corridor lightly. You stop short in the doorway as your eyes land on the captain, he's sitting at his deck amongst the scattered papers, head in hand and blonde waves falling around his face.

You must make a sound, or maybe he just senses your presence, because he looks up to the door and straight at you. You realise this is his study, his bed he offered you last night. Of course, it is, it is his clothes you are wearing, besides, you get the gut feeling that Mitsuya's desk is nowhere near this messy.

Your heart does little flips at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as the captain, somehow the thought that these were possibly Mitsuya's quarters made you more…relaxed. And it is with that thought you realise you are attracted to the captain, to Mikey, you test his name out in your mind.

You stare back at him, slowly assessing his slight yet lean frame; the obvious muscle beneath his thin shirt, hard muscle that you had felt beneath your hands when he held you, and those eyes so dark and deep they seem bottomless. He is handsome in a delicate yet dangerous way, completely at odds with one another, and your body trembles at the thought.

You have no idea how to process this feeling. It has been so long since you have wanted a man, or entertained the thought for pleasure, past using it as a tool in your favour. And why him, why the man who killed two people without so much as blinking, why the man who dictates whether you stay living and breathing on his ship. You cannot even think about such trivial things right now, besides, you are not even sure you can be intimate with a man anymore, not sure you want to be.

So, you push the realisation aside and shove the flickering flames of whatever it is you are feeling- you refuse to call it desire- deep down.

He does not seem to mind that you are staring, in fact, he stares right back. There is no appreciation in his appraisal, no apparent interest in his expression, he just watches you until you feel like you might burst from the intensity and silence.

And so you say the first thing that comes to mind, "I am so sorry, Captain, for disrupting your work, I did not realise-"

He interrupts smoothly, letting his head land back in his palm with a thud, "It's fine, I offered you this space, I just have some work to get done. Some minor adjustments to the food stock…"

He mutters the last part to himself, frowning down at the list below him, brows creasing inwards adorably. There he goes, back to non-threatening again, as if there are two sides to this unreadable man. You step into the room and make your way over to the desk, curiosity getting the better of you. You lean over to peer at the paper he is frowning at, but it is no use, you cannot read a single word.

He looks up at your curious gaze as you lean over his desk, "Mitsuya is better at all this than I am, but he's busy, so…" He waves a hand at the door, in the direction of Mitsuya's office, you presume.

"So, you are left to fend for yourself?" You finish his sentence with a small smile, surprised at the playfulness in your own tone.

His gaze catches yours and he smiles so slightly you almost miss it, "Unfortunately for me."

He leans back in his chair in a stretch before asking, "So, is there anything I can do for you?"

You start, and pull away from the desk, "Uhhh, no. No, I came to lie down, the heat was a bit much," you swallow thickly as you flick your eyes to the door that leads to the bedroom, "but I can come back later! Or I can rest in the men's barracks, I am sure they won't mind!"

Mikey holds up a hand and you stop rambling, trying not to feel like a chastised child, "You are welcome to lie down or do anything you wish," you nod your head in thanks before he continues, "I won't be long, anyway, hopefully." He grumbles the last word and you conceal a smile the best you can.

He shuffles the accounts and lists in front of him and pulls out a fresh sheaf of parchment. You take this to be a dismissal and turn to head into the tiny room, but you find yourself stopping mid-way, "Sir, who is Emma? You mentioned her earlier and so did Chifuyu just now, he gave me these boots of hers?"

You hold up the scuffed ankle boots as if in question, but lower them again when you notice the change in him. His posture is rigid, hands stilled mid-movement and his black eyes, trained on the table below, seem to shine with sudden emotion.

You swallow audibly, heart thundering, you have made a mistake. Clearly, this is not a subject he wishes to broach. You turn again and quickly march to the archway ahead of you, but his low voice makes you pause once more.

"Emma is my sister, was my sister…" He corrects himself with a bitter chuckle and you suck in a painful breath, your heart aching in your chest.

"I- It's not something I like to discuss but, maybe some other time I can answer your questions about her, since you'll be wearing her clothes." He speaks in such a hushed tone you barely make out his words, your human hearing poorer than that of the sea critters you are used to.

You take another deep breath and utter the only words that come to your mind, putting as much meaning into them as you can, "Thank you…and I'm…I'm sorry."

There is no response to your whispered sentiment, so you duck under the arch and into the tiny bedroom. You place Emma's boots, your boots now, just under the lip of the bed before you climb on top of the mattress and curl into the middle of it.

The straw pillow scratches at your cheek but you ignore it as you hug your knees to your chest and reach for your pearl.

Your thoughts wander to lost loved ones and the fresh pain you saw in Mikey's eyes at the mention of his sister. How stupid you are for not noticing that same pain laced across his features earlier, the same pain echoed in Chifuyu's voice. You wish you had not brought her up at all, you wish you had better words to say. You can hear him moving around in his study, no doubt cursing over the many complications you have caused with your presence.

It's strange having the captain just next door, only a thin wall separating you both, alone together. It should be awkward, uncomfortable, maybe even scary for you, but somehow it is not. Somehow, it is soothing having someone there while you close your eyes. The gentle rocking of the boat on the waves, the swish of paper on wood, the scratch of a quill against parchment and the low murmurs of the captain as he talks to himself lull you into a much needed sleep.

⎈ ⎈ ⎈ ⎈

You once again wake from nightmares, heart pounding and sweat dripping from your every pore. The after-effects of your nightmare linger in every shadow, in the tall stack of books you mistake for a figure. You sit up carefully, brushing away tears you didn't even know had fallen, and scoot off the mattress. You breathe deeply and will away the fear response that has goosebumps racing along the skin of your arms.

Gods, you are damp, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin and you grimace at your own stench that you catch a whiff of as you pad into the study. It is darker here than when you came in, the chair now empty and papers cleared away, parchment rolled neatly to one side. The wax you let spill over from the previous night is gone, and so are the empty bottles. You wonder if the captain cleared away his own mess or if Mitsuya paid a visit.

Your attention elsewhere, you miss the bucket in front of you, foot crashing into it and spilling some of its contents. Water sloshes over the side and you curse as you grab at your poor injured toe, having legs is fucking overrated, anyway. You squint at the floor as your eyes adjust to your dim surroundings and notice a cloth hanging over the lip of the bucket. Huh, so Mitsuya did stop by while you were sleeping. You suspect he is the only one thoughtful enough to have anticipated your needs.

You smile, earlier fear melting away, a wash with sea water was better than no wash at all. You could use your abilities to wash, of course, if you absolutely had to, but best not to rely on it when you are supposed to be entirely human. You had already used it once today without much thought, when you had become flustered around the captain. No, stop. Best not think of it.

You drag the bucket into the small bedroom and hastily remove your clothes, wetting the cloth and squeezing the excess from it before setting to work. You wipe away the grime and sweat and dried blood, the water a delightful ruddy brown by the time you are done. The cut across your hip seems to be mainly superficial, it will heal with time. The sting of the salt water against your wound felt good, you have a body that feels pain and you do not have it in you to complain about it,not when it is such a gift. You hesitate to put the same, smelly clothes back on, but you don't want to rudely rummage around the room for new ones without asking.

As you drag the bucket back into the study, you notice a garment draped over the clothes chest, a dress. You recall your interaction with the captain this morning, 'I'm sure Emma left a dress around here somewhere', and you drop the bucket by the open doorway. The base layer is standard cotton, the sleeves bell-shaped and ruffled, and the outer layer is a deep blue, lacing at the front in a corset style.

You hold the dress to your frame, running your hands over the fabric and swishing the flowing skirts. Perhaps a little extravagant for a pirate ship but beautiful no less. You race back into the bedroom to change.

⎈ ⎈ ⎈ ⎈

You have been on his ship for all of a day and he is already going insane. The moment you apologised for his sister's death replaying in his mind over and over. You sounded so sincere, so heartbroken for him, those two words laced with such sorrow as if you had known Emma yourself.

The moment you fell asleep he was out of his chair and pacing the length of his study. He's feeling things, things he has no right to feel, things he shouldn't feel. He barely knows you, for Deities sake, and the last thing you need is anyone showing interest right now. He can only imagine what you must be going through after being a prisoner on Kisaki's ship.

Besides, this isn't like him. He doesn't notice women, he's too busy for women. But you had demanded his attention from the moment you appeared bloody and half-clothed before him, the second your soft fingers met his, the minute he saw your pretty face in the golden rays of the morning sun and especially when you walked into his study and leant over the desk like you owned it. Like you belonged there.

You are so polite and lovely, yet strong, stronger than he is. Mikey knows there's a fire in you somewhere, struggling to stay lit, and he suspects if Hanma hadn't met you first then you would have stormed aboard his ship and commanded his men better than he ever could.

He needed a distraction earlier from your sleeping body only a wall away, sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes. So he went through Emma's belongings- something he's avoided doing since she…

He found the dress and placed it over the chest for you to find when you woke up, and then he tidied his desk, something he never does because he just makes it messy all over again. But he had to do something to cure his restlessness, and anything to stay just a little longer.

You slept the day away, and he had gone to check on you a little later, just to make sure you were okay. You had been dreaming, nothing pleasant if your whimpers were anything to go by, and your face was coated in sweat, hair plastered to the pillow. He fetched a bucket of seawater and a cloth and left it by the doorway. He doesn't know why. It was a thoughtful gesture that is more befitting of Mitsuya than himself. Mikey cares, of course, about everyone aboard his ship but acts of service weren't his go to. A few impassioned words and a clap on the shoulder usually did it, but he could hardly apply that to you.

Now, he's sitting with his men while they gossip about you- Where do you come from? How can you speak the Old Tongue? How did Kisaki find you? He sits quietly, chewing on an uninspiring piece of jerky and lost in thought, until Baji makes a comment about your 'pretty face and rockin' set of-' that earns him a piece of jerky to the face. Mikey didn't want it anyway, foul stuff.

He's just wondering if he should wake you, lest you miss supper, when you appear on deck; walking towards them in the heeled ankle boots you waved at him earlier and the clothes he left out for you. Your hair is tied back with a piece of cloth that matches the exact colour of your dress. And oh, the dress. It fits you like a glove, only adding to your beauty, shoulders and collarbones bare in a cruel display for him. A small, blue-black gem shines where it is nestled between your bosom, completing your attire. You look clean (he's pleased to know you used the water he left for you) and as lovely as ever.

Gods, he's fucked.

⎈ ⎈ ⎈ ⎈

That damned bucket had almost been the death of you. Hauling it out of the study hadn't been too awful, but lifting it high enough to empty it over the edge of the ship had been a bitch. Your weak muscles are still protesting, hopefully you will be allowed to assist with chores soon, surely the work of a shiphand will strengthen your arms and legs. You have plenty of time to learn these things until you arrive at The Cape, maybe they will even teach you how to wield a sword!

The sun is low in the sky, which means you slept the better part of a day away, it's now supper time. The men are in the same spot as this morning, huddled in a circle and chatting away. You just witnessed the captain hurling a piece of food at Baji with deadly accuracy and, no doubt, just as deadly strength. You wonder what he said to garner such a reaction.

As you near, the captain looks up, eyes a little wider than usual. He is wearing his doublet of black velvet, slung around his shoulders as he leans his elbows on his knees. At some point after breakfast, he seemed to have lost his shirt again, only bandages and a red sash tied around his middle providing any coverage. He's wearing the same baggy, black breeches as usual and has discarded this morning's sandals for those heavy boots that delivered a bone-crushing kick to Hanma's face. His chest is as bare as it was the night he carried you aboard this ship, and you do your best to keep your eyes trained elsewhere.

At his look, the other men turn to you as well, a chorus of greetings arising from the huddle. It's a strange feeling, having so many people acknowledging your arrival and looking happy to see you, it's not an unpleasant one. In fact, it makes your chest a little tight with emotion. Pah shuffles to the side from his cross-legged position on the floor to make room for you, at the same time the captain stands from his seat and offers it to you.

You hover at the edge of the circle momentarily before making your decision. You stride over to Pah as you address Mikey, "No need, Captain, I will be just fine on the floor." You avoid his eyes as you settle into the spot between Chifuyu and Pah. After your little revelation in the study, and the small glimpse into his heart you witnessed, you feel particularly nervous at the thought of sitting anywhere near the captain. Gods forbid, his arm brushes your leg during dinner. You do not think you can handle that thrill that occurs when your skin meets his. You must learn to deal with this strange feeling first before putting yourself in his close vicinity again.

He returns to his seat, and a quick glance in his direction reveals a surly look upon his face, no doubt at your dismissal of his gesture, you suppose that was rude of you. The thought that he is disappointed you did not accept brings you a small sense of glee, and you smile as you take the plate of salted meat and sea biscuits offered by Chifuyu.

"Oh, thank you for the water Mitsuya, it felt good to finally freshen up," you chirp at him across the circle, shoving a softened sea biscuit into your mouth unceremoniously. You can tell by the sweet but strong taste that they have been soaked in rum, best not eat too many of these. Mitsuya frowns at you as he reaches for the bottle of alcohol being passed around the circle. He is wearing a silk scarf around his neck today, the pretty lilac colour matching his eyes.

"Well, I'm glad you're clean and feeling good, but that wasn't me," your own frown reflects his, "I've been in my office all day."

"Oh…but then who?" You sweep your gaze around the circle, searching for the culprit, when your eyes land on the captain. Of course. The dress and the water, it was left by him. He still has that surly look on his face, as he grabs the bottle from Draken's hand just as the man was tipping his head back for a drink, the first mate growls but concedes to his captain. Mikey flicks his eyes to yours and away again just as quickly, touching his lips to the bottle and taking a long swig, he is obviously attempting to return your earlier dismissal. But you think you notice a pink hue to his complexion all the same, perhaps the rum.

"Well, whoever the mystery water-giver is, thank you," you announce to the circle at large, smiling into your plate as you grab a piece of jerky. It seems the day-long nap, combined with a bathe and pretty clothes, has given you some confidence back. You feel regenerated and fresh, despite the recurring nightmares, and with the setting sun goes the days harsh heat. It is pleasant sitting in the sea air with a plate of food, even if it is lacklustre in flavour, you are just happy to be able to eat, to once again feel the joy of a full stomach.

Baji swallows down a mouthful of salted meat with what looks like a quarter of the bottle of rum, before Pah yanks it from his grasp with a yell and a smack to the back of his head.

Baji bares his fangs at him and then leans across Pah to look at you, his cheeks reddened from alcohol, "You scrub up good, pretty lady," his sentence comes out in a drawl, eyes sparkling.

From little lady to pretty lady? This one is too cheeky for his own good. Your face warms and you lean back into Chifuyu's space unconsciously, "Oh, that is very sweet of you to say, Baji," you have to force the smile that you give him onto your lips. It is sweet, and you sense that he means no harm, but the inebriated air about him and the flirty compliment sit like a stone in your gut. In your experience, men do not usually flatter without objectifying, without wanting something. And it is difficult to remind oneself that they are not mutually exclusive, you hope in this case, that stays true.

Pah elbows him in the stomach and whispers something to him, his tone furious and his scar tugging the corner of his mouth down harshly.

Then he turns and passes you the bottle of rum with an apologetic look in his dark eyes, "He's harmless, honest," he says it quietly, so that only you can hear.

You give another curt smile and take the bottle, immediately passing it off to Chifuyu, before reaching for your necklace. Your other hand wraps around your stomach to grip your elbow. Gods, you wish you had snagged Mitsuya's jacket from the study before you left, it was still there from the other night. At least, then you would have some cover from the male gaze. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, in and out, before opening them slowly.

You are met with a pair of ink-black irises staring at you from across the circle, you almost imagine a look of sadness in them, concern even. You breathe in again, eyes still on his, calming your racing heart. The feeling of panic that had risen in your chest slowly subsides, and you relax a little, feeling embarrassed. Being human is a little trickier than you remember, especially the emotions.

You clear your throat awkwardly, and look over to Mitsuya. It is time for a distraction you think, for someone else to be in the spotlight.

"Mitsuya, do you think you could tell that story now, about the woman on your flag?"

⎈ ⎈ ⎈ ⎈

After the boys had finished running around collecting blankets and taking toilet breaks, you all settled down again in a circle in preparation for story time. You are all closer-knit than before, huddling under the thin blankets and blowing on your cold fingers. A small oil lamp is lit and placed on a crate in front of Mitsuya, it lends a certain atmosphere to the space, the sun now fully set and the stars twinkling above you.

All eyes are on Mitsuya, a stillness settling over the vessel, only the swish of the waves breaking the quiet.

"Everyone ready?" A sea of heads bob up and down comically, "The tale goes that there was once a human woman more beautiful than all the rest, her beauty was unparalleled across land and sea. She was so beautiful that she caught the eye of the supreme ruler of Deities. He had to have her, and so he offered her family prosperity in exchange for her hand. Her village was poor, so the family accepted the proposal, and the King of Gods began to court the woman. They eventually fell in love, but the woman didn't know who he was or that her family's success was due to his blessings. It was not until the God's wife found out about their affair that the human woman learnt of the betrayal. To protect her from the wrath of his Queen, the God took away his lover's mortal body and hid her in the ocean where she became a Goddess. That way his wife would never be able to find her and have her killed. And so, from that day forth, the woman has ruled over the seas."

Everyone erupts into raucous applause and you mirror the action automatically, but internally you scoff. So, this is the watered-down version told over time? There are a few details missing, the main one being that your father was the one who approached the Gods, not the other way around. He was the one who offered you up like a prime slab of meat. You were promised to the King at the young age of nine, to become his the day you turned twenty one. And you had.

The tale of a father who sold his only daughters' body for fertile soil was clearly too cruel so the tellers reimagined it as a dramatic love story instead. Or perhaps, your father had told it that way, to make sure the blame did not fall upon him. Your stomach churns at the thought and you struggle to conceal the shaking of your hands at the rage building inside you.

"Ah, it's a load of horseshit!" Baji exclaims loudly, over the cheers and chatter.

You feel inclined to agree with him, even if it is just to protect yourself. But Chifuyu sputters indignantly beside you, clearly, he thinks the opposite.

"It is not! You're just cynical. A lot of us still believe in the Old Gods, remember what happened to Shin." He sounds almost offended, mouth down-turned and those big green eyes wide as he stares at the dark-haired pirate.

Baji only rolls his eyes dramatically.

Your curiosity gets the better of you once more as you ask, "Who's Shin?”

All eyes turn to their captain, and he answers simply, "He's my older brother."

"Oh…," you are hesitant to ask about him, since he is not present among the crew, "and what happened to him?" You ask quietly, palms sweaty as you grip at your skirts.

The captain sighs, "He was involved in a battle between warring pirate factions a long time ago, no one else survived. He almost didn't, but he says he was saved by a woman who came out of the Sea, a woman made from the waves themselves."

Your mind goes blank, heart stuttering in your chest, it couldn't be…but then you think of the full cheeks and delicate features that they both share. You look at Mikey's pitch-black eyes, the pupils almost indistinguishable from the irises. Just like the man you saved that day. You see the resemblance now, clear as day, and you wonder how you did not notice it before.

Mitsuya fills in the rest when you and the captain go silent, "After that, Mikey took over as captain in his place. We had a new ship built and adopted the Goddess as our faction's image. I had Shinichuro tell me exactly what he saw and designed the flag myself. Us pirates see the Goddess as a symbol of luck, if we have faith and ask for her blessings before we set sail, then we have good fortune for the journey ahead of us." He looks at you with a wry smile, he probably thinks you do not believe him, merely a far-fetched tale to keep them entertained at sea.

Little do they know the story is a little too close to home. It feels like a fever dream, to be sitting here and have people talk about you as this great being that they give prayer to, without even knowing you sit amongst them. Without knowing you let many good men die on your watch, some even by your hand, not worthy of the revered title they give you. A wolf in sheep's clothing. You feel nauseous. It seems the Fates are working overtime as of late, you wonder if He orchestrated all this just to make your new life difficult.

You vaguely thank Mitsuya for the tale, who bows theatrically in return. Baji and Chifuyu begin squabbling again over the details, arguing about who is right, while the others scoff and laugh at them. Some even cheer them on, picking sides. You barely hear the noise, tuning it out, too lost in thoughts of the past and the irony of this very moment. You stand up from your place in the circle, stumbling towards the bow, and manage to make it to the side of the ship before you empty the contents of your stomach into the sea.

Thanks so much for reading! 💙

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clamanger47 · 2 years

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incarnateirony · 3 years

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Do you know if the CW feels any impact from the audience of their shows in countries where they're not a channel? For example in Brazil there's no CW, but some of their shows are on the Warner Channel as well as stuff from other networks.

This one is a little more complicated, I'll start at "nyes".

Here's the thing: at the end of the day, the CW is an empty vessel. It has less than 400 employees, and technically even qualifies as a "small business" resultingly. It is an LLC, meaning it has no stocks, and can not be held accountable on the stock market and the executives there have a series of protections designed to keep them from taking personal hits.

Boycotting the CW is a method to plink the armor of its much larger parents. At the end of the day, the CW--shitty as its ethics, choices and influences are--are mostly beholden to its parent companies.

Does anyone remember when I told people, the second that Wayward was cancelled, that CBS was responsible, despite Wayward being a WB IP? I explicitly mentioned Moonves, and quoted his methodology on properties, ratings, streaming and more? Then dipshits like You Know Who tried to claim they knew better, and that I was crazy/stupid, and then like a month later one of the wayward women said at a M&G that the contractual breakdown was from CBS, and This Guy Named Moonves, and then there was radio silence and the You Know Whos emitted crickets, buried the conversation, and pretended it never happened?

That's because these things are related. They all influence each other, as per my last ask (x).

At the end of the day, the things that happened on, say, Supernatural are you actually being pissed at the WB. You can see the WB's historically failing Studio Responsibility Index on things like LGBT representation here at the GLAAD website. (x)

Just like a lot of the supreme BS attempted-but-massively-failing woke content tends to spew out of CBS trying to appeal to The Young Gays while segregating The Gay Stuff off their prime network that is historically way behind the others. They have no idea how to actually make or handle that content, but slap pride flags and a few Hashtag Fact phrases on content and plug it up the CW's ass to market it to you with more rainbows and a big impressive tally list of gay characters, that the You Know Whos of fandom insist make it a great representation channel, and bury the conversation that most of those are one-off or very minor characters, dead, or worse. They're there to hit a target that's a good talking point. Nothing else. They put a gay in the background of a poster somewhere so That Counts(tm) and look how progressive they are, make sure to attend his funeral next episode.

This may all seem like a huge aside to the initial ask but it's necessary framework to present, in association with the above-linked previous ask, on why holding the CW accountable is important. Because at the end of the day, be it the Nadria Tucker issues with WB/DC and their firing her for racist/sexist reasons; or the erasure of gays on Supernatural to the point there's clearly an order to their related syndication networks where they won't even air 15.09 or 15.18 again much less the finale; or the bullshit attempts at being woke on Walker where they think making ICE prisoners a talking point to launch a white man cop's story as relatable to an ICE officer's struggles is good marketing; to things outside of it, like--as posted by POLOL member Rebarn in the server,

-- these are people actually being mad at choices made by the CBS and WB. The CW is just a vessel to deliver it with minimal accountability and a PR mask people eat up like the gay candy they're trying to sell you even if it's just sugar free beaver anus flavoring.

But because of the size of these giant merged companies, like--trying to tackle WB head on for example is a fools' errand unless everyone pulled their heads out of their asses and ended this "I DO WHAT I WANT" personality and started heavily networking with say, DC fandoms and adjacent to do substantial damage to their franchises far larger. But, again, deferring to the above linked previous ask, if you knock out the CW as a content vehicle, even if it's smaller, you suddenly dent 6, 7, 8, 9 zeroes out of WB/CBS profits because you CAN knock down the CW, and change how they have to peddle their product.

To round full circle to your ask: just because the CW isn't in your country doesn't mean it does no good to boycott the content. Because the profit still goes to the IP holders (CBS, WB), and it's still part of the joint statement, as well as lowers the digital franchiseability of the products they're trying to resell on the market, internationally.

For example you know how internationally Netflix shows a lot of "Netflix originals" that are very obviously not originals, but are instead shows from other sources? That's part of The Rights Game. Initially CW and Netflix had a brokered deal of bulk packaging for a very large, very pretty price to them that helped bankroll them for years. This is also why CBS started shoveling absolute fodder content down the CW's throat that could run on just about negative ratings -- again, I point to the Moonves interview I cited as implication to why Wayward was bumped off the line -- so CBS could run away with the digital profits 100% licensing things in dozens or hundreds of companies. But CBS threw a goddamn hissyfit about merchandising rights when Netflix was like hey if we're gonna source all these shitty shows can we get like 10% of the merch value and CBS threw themselves on the mcdonalds playplace floor kicking and screaming, and then CW lost its legendary netflix deal which made them have to start peddling their content individually.

So if you cut off viewership of this content internationally, its franchiseability tanks, and CW continues to lose a huge part of its bankrolling value both with digital and to its parent companies using it as a vehicle to deliver content to shove into digital venues. The lack of the Netflix deal is why CBS is also wandering around like a pauper to platforms trying to find a home for its content--like convincing WB to host Walker on HBO Max, where I promise it's not going to do well. Most of its audience is beyond streaming age, and I promise no young 20 something is gonna open HBO Max and be like YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT TO WATCH, THIS YEEHAW COP REBOOT WITH JARED PADALECKI SPITTING IN A POT AND PULLING UP HIS PANTS. They're gonna fuckin' turn on Game of Thrones or something. Netflix, hulu, amazon don't fuckin' want it because they see that on the horizon. They're not gonna pay the money CBS wants for it. CBS All Access is for old people and they're too noncommittally fake woke just enough to piss off the Trumpers (points back to point about CBS content/representation way up there). So CBS DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT ON ITS OWN STREAMING PLATFORM.

Walker's housing arrangement on HBO Max is actually an early symptom of CW death throes, and CBS trying to figure out what the hell it's going to do once the CW goes under. It burned its netflix bridge, and soon won't have CW to try to float/sell/farm its content. Streaming apps don't want their content anymore. Their content underperforms.

So yes, absolutely boycott these products internationally. It adds to the weight of what's going on and continues to make CW less and less valuable on the front, continues to damage the actual IP holder parent companies and take their products to their knees, and continues to expediate the decline of it all in one network of fuckery. The same way the CW was a strength for its parents by webbing between them is now a way to drag them into a collective undertow and force bad business results on them all around, essentially inverting its value, expediting the rate at which they decide the CW is a money sink, and making them watch the 0s fly out of their bank account in a way that--say--trying to tackle the WB directly wouldn't accomplish.

CW no longer owns the rights to SPN, hence deleting its YT content. WB does. But WB has been feeling the crunch enough that brand new unopened S14 complete season blurays with specials are being sold under 10 dollars at walmart with 2$ off other movie tickets on the front and still not going off the shelves. That's them even trying to recover costs on releasing them to begin with. The WB tried to put out a mega 15 season uber collectors set giveaway enter by RT and got like, 300 RTs total. They need traction, they're not getting sales, and we're seeing the active results.

Continue to put heat on products that came by way of the CW as a result of their communal meddling being bad for business in any way possible, even after CW is no longer airing it and once the money is going straight into the IP holder parent company pockets. Not only are you then making The Correct People(tm) hurt, you're further devaluing the CW itself and accelerating its heat death which STILL will end up massively dinging the WB/CBS for reasons explained above in ways that kicking the titans in the shins itself wouldn't accomplish.

Hopefully that clarifies.

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